Pioneers play at home.”
“I can get you tickets on the fifty-yard line,” Kyle offered. “Let me know if there’s a home game coming up that you want to see.”
Dan shook Kyle’s hand again, a grateful, hearty pump. Ben nodded as if his suspicions had been confirmed. Celebrity was good. Confidence tipped the boy’s chin up and strengthened his voice. “My aunt and I are inventors, too.”
“That’s nothing.” Ava waved her hands between them as if trying to wipe Ben’s words from the air. “That’s just a game we play.”
Kyle liked the tinge on Ava’s cheeks. “What’s the game?”
Ben rubbed his hands together. “It’s called You Know What We Need?”
Kyle knew what he needed. He needed another million-dollar idea. And he needed it yesterday. Still, he wanted to share Ben’s enthusiasm, feel that same innocent excitement for something. He’d felt it once with the Medi-Spy. “How do you play?”
“Someone says, ‘You know what we need?’ and then tells everyone their idea. We discuss the idea, then vote if we like it or not. You get points if everyone likes it.” Ben’s eyes widened, and horror lowered his voice to secret-telling level. “But if we vote it down, you lose double the points.”
If Kyle played, he’d only lose points. In real life, it was more than bragging rights or his reputation at stake. If he didn’t come up with a second invention soon, his parents and sisters would suffer. The women’s shelter he funded would be forced to shut its doors. He could handle the fallout himself, but failing his family would be unforgivable. He’d created the Medi-Spy to honor his grandfather, an iron worker who’d suffered a stroke in the heat. He’d always meant for the money to bring his family closer. That wouldn’t happen if he defaulted on the terms of Medi-Spy’s sale.
“Or...” Ava’s disgruntled voice muted Kyle’s thoughts. “There’s no discussion at all because your idea gets voted down instantly. Then you drop to last place. Last place.”
The words vote and last place circled through Kyle’s mind. Something hummed inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in far too long. The first stirrings of an idea.
Ben set his hands on his hips. “Aunty, you know your idea for hair dye that changes color with a person’s mood wasn’t good.”
Kyle placed his hand over his mouth and chin to cover his smile. Even he doubted there was a market for mood-changing hair dye and he, the one without an idea, had no right casting judgment.
Dan laughed. “There really wasn’t anything to discuss.”
“It could be hugely popular.” Ava set her hands on her hips and stared them down. “But we’ll never know because you crushed it before I could debate its merits.”
“What merit is there in having hair that changes to green when you’re jealous? No one really wants green hair.” Dan nudged Ava in the shoulder, knocking her out of her standoff mode. “You really need to come to the table stronger in the next round.”
Kyle laughed.
Ava pointed at him. “You can’t side with them unless you’ve agreed to the rules.”
Rules? That hum shifted to a buzz. Kyle’s idea solidified into more than a throwaway thought. Their game could be a contest. First place. Last place. Rules to follow. Perhaps a contest for an original invention. An idea that would keep his parents retired in comfort, Penny’s Place open and his sister’s college tuition funded through her graduation. Then Kyle would finally bring his family back together like they’d been before his grandfather’s death. “You have rules?”
“Every good game has rules.” Ben looked at him as if Kyle shouldn’t ask such ridiculous questions. “It needs to be fair.”
Kyle nodded. His contest would be fair, too. But could it work? Could one simple contest keep him from financial ruin? “What are the rules?”
“Everyone gets a turn. You can tell your idea anytime. Any place, except church and anytime Dad tells you to be quiet. Otherwise you can’t interrupt.” Ben held up his fingers and counted. “This is the most important one—you can’t make fun of an idea.”
“Unless they’re mine,” Ava added.
“We couldn’t not comment on the hair dye, Ava.” Dan jabbed his elbow in Ava’s side. “Even my dad nixed that idea and he likes every single one you have.”
Ava shoved Dan back. “Your dad is a good man.”
“What does the winner get?” Kyle asked. A family game was all fine and good. But his contest needed a winner. In a viable contest, there needed to be a prize.
“Bragging rights.” Dan’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if nothing else mattered.
Again, that worked for a family game played in the car or a restaurant or at home. But Kyle needed more than bragging rights to entice entries.
The more that he needed was money. Money motivated people. There’d be no entry fee required. He’d offer a twenty-five-thousand-dollar grand prize for an original idea, provided the winner agreed to sign away their rights to the idea. If his team—the one he’d need to pull together—could develop the idea into a prototype, he’d give the winner an additional twenty-five-thousand-dollar bonus. Then he’d submit the winning idea to Tech Realized, Inc. to meet his deadline and fulfill his contract. Everyone would win.
Kyle searched for a downside, but couldn’t see one and wanted to hug Ben.
A hug was hardly enough to thank the boy who’d possibly saved Kyle from bankruptcy. Instead, he touched his medical-alert bracelet. He didn’t know why Ben wore the bracelet, but he knew that bracelet made the boy different. Set him apart from his peers. Kyle remembered all too well having his mom bring special food to baseball practice and classmates’ birthday parties until he’d stopped RSVPing with a yes. He remembered all too well how it felt to be different, when all he’d wanted was to be the same. Different might help an adult, but it would hinder a child. “Ben, how would you like to tour my idea tank? Your dad and aunt could come, too, if they wanted.”
Ben tugged on his dad’s arm. “Can we?”
“We have to check our schedules,” Dan said. Before Ben could argue, Dan lifted his hand, palm out. “But I don’t see why not.”
Ben pumped his fists against his sides. “Can I take pictures?”
Kyle nodded. The kids at school would require proof of Ben’s claims about spending the day with a so-called celebrity. Kyle would ensure Ben had whatever he needed to be the envy of his classmates. “As many selfies as you want.”
“Cool.” Ben stepped to Ava’s side. “Aunty, you have to go, too.”
“I’m not sure,” Ava hedged.
“But you might come up with better ideas if you see how good ideas are made,” Ben countered.
Ava crossed her arms over her chest. “I already have good ideas.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Please come with
